


Pleochroism

by Anonymouspotato



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Autistic Caleb Widogast, Characters will be added as they appear - Freeform, Drawing, Exploiting Jester’s 16 STR, Exposition, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, LOTSA PINING, Large mechanical monsters, Magic, Matchmaker Frumpkin (Critical Role), Mystery, Non-Graphic Violence, OH NO THERE’S ONLY ONE BED cliche, Rage, Road Trips, Urban Fantasy, Virus, but magic, probably slow burn but I’m no expert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouspotato/pseuds/Anonymouspotato
Summary: Pleochroism - An optical phenomenon in which a substance has different colors when observed at different angles, especially with polarized light.Caleb and Jester wind up on a road trip with about 72% more fantastical shenanigans than average. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 42
Kudos: 65





	1. Metamorphism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Metamorphism - The process by which minerals are forced together under great pressure and heat usually by tectonic plates moving underneath each other. The beginning stage of the formation of most gemstones._

This was adamantly not what Caleb signed up for.

He pulled the old car into the gas station, stepping out and inhaling the salty air of Nicodranas. A cacophonic swarm of locals and tourists trudged along the paved sidewalk ten feet away, and he buried his hand in his pocket and ran the plastic contraption hidden there through and around and under and over his blackened fingers. He’d never liked crowds.

Caleb walked into the gas station, gave the woman standing behind the counter a courteous nod, and stepped into the bathroom. He locked the door, and slipped a blue piece of paper underneath it, so the corner would peek out the other side.

He pulled the plastic tangle out and twisted his hands in it while he waited. Exactly twenty-seven minutes after he entered, the paper was pulled, and in one smooth motion Caleb hid the string of plastic and opened the door.

“Archivist.” He greeted.

“Mr. Widogast.” The Archivist entered quickly, and locked the door again. They were a Halfling, with dark brown-black hair streaked with white near their temples, wearing the loose, colorful garb of a typical tourist. “You stand out.”

Caleb looked down at himself - the long brown coat probably _was_ a little suspicious in the tropical weather. “I don’t intend to stay long.”

The Archivist nodded, then reached into the pocket of their khaki shorts and pulled out a small blue envelope. “You have three jobs.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “I was told I only had one.”

“Plans change. Zeenoth had an injury while overseas. Something about vampires in Tal’Dorei.” They shrugged. “Job number one you already knew about. Get this package north, by any means necessary. Job number two is simple. An old friend of mine needs you to check on the branch up in Zadash.”

“Simple enough. And number three?”

The Archivist’s already stern expression turned grave. “Recently, there’s been buzzing about something called the Angel of Irons in some rural communities. We need you to find all the information you can about it on your way north.”

“Easier said than done.”

“You’re a talented man, Mr. Widogast. I’m sure you can figure something out.” They smiled wryly, for just a second, before the severe demeanor returned. “Take care of this package. You have no idea how much work it took to collect it.”

“I will guard it with my life.”

“Good. Wait here after I go.” The Archivist nodded, and stepped out of the bathroom. 

Caleb slid to the dirty floor, running his fingers over the envelope. By all appearances, it seemed empty. He cocked his head to the side, and let a bit of magic twitch deep in his gut and run over his nerves, sparking behind his eyes. As soon as the sight slotted into place, he had to wince and look away - the envelope was covered in so many protective glyphs that you couldn’t see anything through them.

He dismissed his spell, and stuffed the envelope deep in his pocket. It was going to be a long car ride. He loitered a few minutes more, then stepped outside, purchasing a bottle of lemonade on the way out, so as to be less suspicious. He silently stalked out of the gas station, filled up his car, and sat back down, turning the key in the ignition. This was going to be a long trip.

Jester giggled as she lept from one rooftop to another. She loved days like today, when the city felt so alive with so many people mingling in the streets below, like so many cells in the great body of Nicodranas. She was really gonna miss it.

No time for that now, though. She could be homesick later, when she wasn’t about to get arrested literally any minute.

She sat down on the edge of a building overlooking a small gas station, and pulled a peanut butter sandwich out of her bag. She was gonna miss Momma’s peanut butter sandwiches - she knew that they always had the same ingredients, but it just didn’t taste the same when someone else made one. She chewed with her cheek propped on her hand, kicking her legs over the side. She was just about ready to move on when a car pulled into the gas station - an old fashioned red one, with the top rolled down. A man climbed out of it - she couldn’t see much of him from up here, but he was wearing a long brown coat. Definitely not from around here. Hopefully going home soon. _Perfect._

Jester watched the man walk into the gas station, then pulled up her hood, letting her vision tunnel as a buzzing sensation filled her body, rattling her bones against their ligaments and pushing something fantastic and wild into her veins. She breathed deeply, and smelled fresh earthy soil and lollipops. She didn’t expect the smell, when she first got the cloak, but now it was one of her favorite parts.

She climbed down the fire escape of the building she was sitting on, cackling to herself when the old man watering his plants didn’t notice her even when her hand landed in his flower box. She swung down and landed in a roll when she was still two stories up, just for the fun of it, and walked over to the fire engine red convertible. 

Checking the back seat, there were some bags and things on the seat itself, but the floor in front of them was unoccupied. She grinned, and climbed into the back, pressing her body against the floor and wiggling to get comfortable. The floor was clear of big junk, but it was covered in thin little hairs, almost like a shedding-

“Meow?” 

Jester smiled wider, sat up, and sure enough, found a cat sitting in the front passenger’s seat, a little ginger tabby that was looking at her with big curious eyes, batting his tail back and forth.

“Aww. You’re adorable.” She cooed, reaching out to scratch the cat behind his ears. He purred, and arched into the touch. “You tell your friend I’m not gonna hurt him, okay? I just wanna get out of town.”

“Mrrow.”

“Thank you!” She laughed, and then winced when she felt a suspicious twinge in her side. Frowning, she slid back down in the seat, and pulled the hood down, letting the twitchy vibrating feeling fade. As much as she loved the hoodie, the side effects were less fun. 

She waited for what felt like hours, eventually pulling out the copy of _Hirelings_ her Momma had leant her. It wasn’t super interesting, but she was _extremely_ bored. When she finally heard the man returning, she quickly packed her things up, shushed the cat one last time, and covered her mouth with her hand. 

The man seemed distracted, though. She heard the faint ruffling of fuzz and a quiet purr, and then the louder hum of the engine. She hugged her backpack to her chest as the car rolled out and started on the road out of town. This was going to be a _really_ fun trip.


	2. Bruting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Bruting - A jewelrymaking term referring to the initial shaping of a rough gemstone_

Caleb whistled to himself as he drove along the freshly re-paved road leading north out of Nicodranas. After he passed through the Wuyun Gorge, and paid his toll, it would be smooth sailing until he hit Trostenwald. Assuming nothing happened on the way. Which it probably would, given his luck.

He reached a hand down to scratch Frumpkin, who had curled up in his lap.  _ What do you think about all this, old friend? _

_ The jobs? They’re nothing special. Errands and information gathering are nothing you haven’t done before. And it’ll be nice to see some country scenery for once.  _ Frumpkin arched his spine.  _ I could swear there was something in the back...must’ve been my imagination. _

_ Well, we’ll know either way at the toll, won’t we?  _ He chuckled and glanced at the still-unopened bottle of lemonade, the pale gold liquid rippling as the car janked. It would only be another half hour or so before he reached the Gorge.

_ That feels more risky than just pulling over and checking now. You know what the Tollmaster will do- _

_ Frumpkin, I have enough faith in your perception to trust you when you say you make shit up. _

_ Your funeral.  _ Frumpkin playfully swatted Caleb’s hand with his tail, and hopped over to his original seat, curling up on a pillow and dozing off.

Caleb sighed. “Arschloch.” Twenty-eight minutes to go.

Jester held as still as she possibly could. As soon as the man stopped at an inn, she’d pull up her hoodie and run off into another car, or maybe just to a motel if he was near a big enough town. Somewhere she could get lost.

She counted the seconds to herself as the car rolled along. The man driving it was whistling some sort of unfamiliar tune - and she had heard him speak a language she didn’t know earlier. She might’ve heard her Momma speaking something similar once, but she never had a head for languages. Jester preferred her paintings. 

She slowly and quietly pulled out her sketchbook, and started to draw. 

She sketched a picture of the cat she found earlier, playing with a ball of yarn. He was maybe a little fluffier (okay, a  _ lot _ fluffier) in the picture, but what kind of heartless person would be unhappy with an especially fluffy cat? 

She was honestly impressed with herself that the man hadn’t noticed her yet. She must’ve been getting pretty sneaky. 

She finished the cat with a few flicks of her pencil to make the whiskers, and flipped to the next page, drawing the skyline of Nicodranas from her bedroom window. She was just starting on the Errenis Building when the car screeched to a halt. She stuffed her sketchbook away, and was tensed to pull up her hood and bolt, when a booming voice rattled her ribcage and stole her breath.

**“State your name and possessions, or be tried.”**

She heard a heavy sigh, and the car door opening and closing. “My name is Caleb Widogast. My possessions are as follows: this old hunk of junk car, a familiar spirit by the name Frumpkin, an undrunk bottle of lemonade, two shirts, three pairs of pants…” The voice, the man driving the car, she assumed, who had a heavy accent she couldn’t quite place. He listed every single thing he’d brought with him to the car, then swallowed very loudly. “I have nothing more to declare.”

Jester heard a terrible mechanical  _ grinding  _ sound, like rusty gears, and the man got back into his car.

He barely made it two feet, however, before she heard an unearthly  _ shriek _ , and suddenly the ground was ripped from under her with something cold and sharp scraping against the back of her neck.

_ I TOLD YOU! _

“Not  _ now, _ Frumpkin, I’ll give you sardines later.” Caleb held up a hand to shield his eyes from

the sun, and look at the woman the Tollmaster had plucked from his car like pinching a cherry by the stem. He couldn’t see much of her features, but she looked to be a Tiefling, and she was thrashing like a bug stuck to fly-paper. 

**“STATE YOUR NAME AND POSSESSIONS, OR BE TRIED!”**

“My, uhhh….” The woman squirmed, suspended by the hood of her jacket between two of the Tollmaster’s needle-like, twenty foot long mechanical fingers. They twisted together into a long, thin arm, welded to the large, boxy body of the robotic monstrosity. “My names, is, ah, Jester. Jester Lavorre.” She chuckled nervously. “And my possessions...ummm….”

The Tollmaster  _ screeched _ , dragging the woman higher in the air. Caleb looked back and forth between the magic machine and - she said her name was Jester? He sighed, brought his hands to his mouth, yelled “Everything you brought with you! Say it now!” and took off running towards her. 

Jester nodded, and started listing things. “This really cool hoodie my best friend gave me, my sketchbook, I think there’s some spare change in my left shoe? Uhhh…” 

Caleb dug into the inside of his coat, and grabbed two vials from their pockets. He dribbled the contents of one on his tongue, careful not to swallow the drop of sweet oil, and clutched the other in his hand, feeling the snake’s tongue rolling in it’s container. “Tollmaster!” He shouted. One of the construct’s eyes twisted out of its head and bore down on him like a spotlight extending like a telescope. “This woman is a companion of mine. If you are to try anyone, please, punish me and not her. It was by my negligence that you were unaware of her. She is innocent.”

The eye rotated again, and sucked back into the Tollmaster’s head. Caleb put his arms down, and nearly hit his head on the soil when another mechanical pincer grabbed him by the ankle, digging into flesh as he winced, and flipped him upside down. He popped the cork on the vial with the snake’s tongue, and let the magic  _ flow.  _ “I  _ Suggest _ you let me and my companions pass by unharmed.”

A plume of pink smoke emerged from the vial and twisted in the air, serpentine and elegant. For a moment, the Tollmaster froze. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, they were lowered back to the ground. Jester managed to land on her feet, but Caleb fell on his back. He was never all that nimble.

**“Go.”**

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Jester mumbled. “Hey, are you okay?”

She leaned over him, and now he could get a much better look at her. She was, indeed, a Tiefling, with blue skin and hair, bells dangling from the ends of her horns, and eyes that were the most brilliant shade of lavender he’d ever seen. She was wearing a bright green hoodie that sparkled in the sunlight, a pair of jean shorts, and pink sneakers. “I have, like, really good first-aid training if you need it.”

“I am fi-” He sat up and winced as he put weight on his injured ankle. “...I might need a little help, Ja.”

“Oh, that looks bad. Here, I’ll get you back to the car.” With barely any effort, she scooped him up and positioned him on her back with his arms around her neck and his knees held by her hands. “You sit down in the passenger’s seat, I’ll drive us for a bit. Where are we going, by the way?”

“Where are  _ we _ going?”

“You said we’re a team now, right? To that giant robot thingy? You’re stuck with me!” She sing-songed. “Besides, I don’t think you want do drive all the way back to Nicodranas.”

“...No, I do not.” Caleb twisted a few arcane words through the air, and squinted at the enchantment and illusion magic woven through the fabric of the Jester’s bright green hoodie. “You said you got that from a friend?”

“Yep!” She set him down in the passenger’s seat. “And I’ll tell you  _ allllllllll _ about him, if you let me come with you.”

Caleb looked at Jester, than his ankle, than Jester again. “The next stop is fourteen hours north of here, in Trostenwald.”

Jester, smiled, and pulled a first aid kit out of her pocket. She knelt down next to the car, and started to disinfect his ankle. “By the way, what happened to your cat?”

“Frumpkin? He is-”

Caleb was cut off by a loud meow as Frumpkin lept on top of the woman, nestling between her horns. “Awwww, Frumpkin. That’s a very nice name for a cat.” She have him a quick pet and grabbed some bandages. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem!” She finished wrapping his ankle, and stuck a bandage covered in donuts on top of the wrap. “Now, you said Trostenwald? I’ve never been in the Empire. This is gonna be so much fun! And hey, what was that monster, anyway?” She sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the key. “And what was up with that pink smoke thing you did? Are you a  _ wizard _ or something? Wait, you wanted to hear about my friend, right?”

She kept rambling on with more questions, and Caleb tried very hard not to smile. He looked to Frumpkin, who was now sitting on Jester’s lap.  _ What have we gotten ourselves into? _

_ I think you know. _ Frumpkin purred.

Caleb ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his ponytail as Jester drove through the Gorge and into the wild countryside of the Dwendalian Empire.  _ Arschloch. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translations:  
> ‘Arschloch’ - ‘Asshole’  
> ‘Ja’ - ‘Yes’


	3. Luminescence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Luminescence - The spontaneous emission of light by a substance that has not been heated. A property of some gemstones such as cobra stone (a fluorite crystal) when exposed to ultraviolet light, pressure, or friction._

“Is that all of your questions?”

Jester looked over at Caleb. “Yeah? Gosh, how long was I talking for?”

“Thirty-seven minutes, fourteen seconds.”

“Oh, wow, you just know that? That’s so  _ cool.” _ She smiled broadly, and chucked to herself. “Guess I did have more questions.”

“Yes, I do  _ just know that. _ So, you want to know where I’m from, who I work for, what I did to the Tollmaster, and where I’m going?”

“Where  _ we’re _ going. We’re a team now, remember?”

“Riiiiiight…”

“And yes, I would really like to know all of those things.”

“Alright, first of all, I’m from the Empire, nowhere particular.” She arched an eyebrow. “And I work for a group called the Cobalt Soul.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Then we’re doing our job.”

“Which is?” She flicked her tail into the shape of a question mark, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Well...magic is real.”

“I know.”

“...I am unsurprised. The Soul’s job is to make sure the magical world doesn’t meddle  _ too _ much in mundane affairs.”

“And you’re a wizard or something? And used crazy magic on the Tollmaster?”

“Correct. You never run out of questions, do you?”

“Nope!” Jester cooed, popping the ‘p’. “Is everyone at the Cobalt Soul a wizard?”

“Far from it. It’s quite the hodge podge, really.”

“Are they the people who sent you on this road trip?”

“...That’s  _ very  _ classified.”

“So yes.”

“I’m -  _ we’re  _ \- going north.  _ Very _ far north. And making some pit stops.” He tapped his fingers in a loose rhythm on the car dash. “So what about your mysterious friend?”

“Oh, the Traveler? Well, he’s this tall man who I met...about twenty years ago? It’s been a while. He taught me all sorts of cool pranks, and he gave me this!” She waved her arm to indicate the hoodie. “It makes me, like,  _ super  _ hard to notice, so I can be really sneaky!”

“He sounds...interesting.”

“He’s  _ very _ interesting! He tells really good stories, and he knows all sorts of amazing people.”

“How theatrical.”

“Oh, no, he  _ hates _ the theater. He never told me why though. But I think he might’ve pooped his pants on stage once and sworn it off.” She giggled like birdsong.

“You talk about bodily functions a lot, don’t you?”

“You talk about obvious things a lot, don’t you?”

He bit back a smile. She was sharp, that was clear now. “We’ll drive for about four more hours, there should be a motel by then. We’ll spend the next day getting the rest of the way to Trostenwald.”

“Sounds like a plan!” She waved at a passing red fox on the side of the road. “So what kind of stuff is in Trostenwald?”

“Ordinary southern Empire things. Farmers, tradesmen. And booze, lots of booze.”

“Any spooky magic stuff?”

“There are rumors about a coven of witches on an island outside of town, I think. Probably bubkis.”

“Ooh, witches! Spooky! Do you think they have spooky magic black cats?”

“If they’re real? Possibly.”

Frumpkin huffed quietly.  _ In my infinite experience, witches prefer toads. _

“So how long left before we reach the motel?”

“About three hours, fifty two minutes.”

“Then I’m turning on the radio.” She fiddled with the knob until she landed on a station of cheerful, synth-filled pop music, singing along with every song that came. Caleb sighed, beckoned Frumpkin to his lap, and tried very hard not to think about how pretty her singing voice was, before the bounce of the road slowly lulled him to sleep.

The rest of the trip passed without much conversation. Jester bounced in her seat as she drove along the country rode, taking in the unfamiliar scenery. The rolling hills and wheat fields of the Dwendalian Empire couldn’t be more different from the aquamarine shores and white sand beaches of the Menagerie Coast, but they were beautiful in their own way. After a lot of driving and at least three radio stations, they finally pulled into the _Arcane Horse_ _Motel_ , the reddish-orange neon of the ‘Vacany’ sign brightened by the harsh sunset shadows. “Caleb.” She whispered, shaking his shoulder as he jerked away. “We’re here.”

“Ah - ja. Of course. I’ll go in.”

“Don’t be silly, I have  _ tons _ of money. She climbed over the car door without opening it and ran inside before he could protest.

The proprietor was a middle-aged Dwarven woman with a thick beard and a cigarette dangling from her lips. “Hello, ma’am? I need two rooms.”

“Don’t have two rooms.” She didn’t look up from her desk

“But the sign said you have vacancy!”

“We have  _ a  _ vacancy. One room free. Been a busy day.”

“Okay then, I will take your one room.”

“Two gold pieces.”

Jester slapped the coin on the table and took the key. She walked back outside to the car, ears burning, and found Caleb apparently having an argument with his cat.

“That’s not the point of - oh, Jester.” His accent did such interesting things to her name. “Did you get rooms.”

“I got  _ a  _ room. They only had one available.”

He stared at her blankly for a few seconds. 

“I’m sure there’s a sofa or something! I can stay on that!”

“Jester, you’re paying for the room, you’re not sleeping on the sofa.”

“Well, it’s  _ your  _ trip, so you’re not sleeping on the sofa, either!”

“Jester, I really must insist-” Caleb opened the door to room 115, and revealed a distinct lack of sofas. Or chairs. Or anything besides the bed, really. Jester didn’t know much about cats, but she was pretty sure Frumpkin was cackling.

“...So.”

“I can stay on the flo-”

“No, you can’t.” She toed the carpet, which had obviously not been vacuumed in some time. “I’m pretty sure your ankle would get infected.

“Then what?”

“We share the bed.”

Caleb’s face turned about the same color as his hair as he sputtered, “Jester, I really don’t know - we met  _ this morning.” _

She grinned coquettishly. “What, were you planning to do something  _ indecent _ with me? Why, Caleb! I didn’t take you for the type!”

He got even redder, then sighed heavily. “Let is never speak of this again.”

“Whatever you say!” She disappeared into the bathroom to change, then flopped onto the bed, which was still pretty lumpy, but less lumpy than she’d thought it be. 

It was the weirest thing. As she fell asleep, she could swear she was on top of the blankets - she was too tired to bother, and it helped avoid the itching. But when she woke up the next morning, her head was piled high with both pillows, and she was tucked in. 

When Caleb came in from the shower, hair damp but already dressed, and she rebandaged his ankle, she pretended not to notice.


	4. Cleavage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Cleavage - A plane resulting from the regular atomic substance of a gemstone, along which the stone is particularly prone to fractures and breaks_

The rest of the drive up north to Trostenwald was mostly uneventful. Caleb had insisted on driving now that his ankle didn’t hurt so much, and aside from one memorable incident where Jester and Frumpkin almost fell out of the car getting a peak at some very large fruit trees, the surroundings were the same valleys and rivers and fields of wheat. When they finally approached the small town, the sun was low in the western horizon, the sky painted with stripes of orange, purple and pink in great fuzzy streaks.

“Jester.” He said, nudging her gently. She had fallen asleep an hour and seven minutes ago, and a small line of drool was falling out of the corner of her open mouth. “Jester, we’re here.”

“Guhhhhh…” Her eyes scrunched up as she pushed herself into her seat. “Oh, hey. You’re right...is today a festival?”

“No, it’s not. Why do you ask?”

“What time is it?”

“Six fourty four PM.”

“Shouldn’t most of those people be inside? Eating and getting ready for bed?” She pointed towards the town. Caleb looked closer, and she was right - there was a large crowd of people, making quite a bit of noise, gathered on the outskirts of the town. 

The two of them made eye contact, and Caleb pressed down on the gas.

They swerved into town, Frumpkin jumping into position across Caleb’s shoulders as they screeched to a halt on a street corner. He opened the door and ran onto the sidewalk as fast as he could. Jester cut out the middleman, vaulting over the door and taking off down the streets. It wasn’t hard to locate the crowd. They were screaming, lunging at each other and brawling in the streets. It was like a macabre, bloody block party. 

Jester covered her mouth and took a few steps back. “What’s wrong with them?”

“I don’t know.”

She grimaced. “I’m gonna go investigate.” She pulled up her hood, and he quickly lost track of her in the crowd. A Gnomish woman ran down the street, shaking a Dwarven man by the shoulders. She looked concerned for a moment, before her posture snapped and she started fiercely scratching at his face.

Caleb reached into his pocket, running his fingers through his tangle and muttering to himself. “ _ This _ is going  _ very _ well.” He singsonged, walking around the corner and planting his back against the wall. The screaming felt like a heavy clamp squeezing his head.

“Oh, there you are.” He looked up to see Jester standing on the edge of the roof of the building he was leaning against. She bent down at the waist and waved at him before climbing down, using the window sills as holds. “Something wrong.”

“I...do not like violent mobs.”

“Who does?” She shrugged, smiling. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s directing it. They’re just beating each other up for no reason. Maybe it’s magic?”

“I’ll check.” He poked his head around the corner and went through the motions for the spell. His eyes widened when he saw the thick fog of enchantment magic surging through the crowd like a living creature. He ducked out of the way of a sweeping foggy tendril as it swung for him, and flailed back behind the wall. “ _ Definitely  _ magic.”

“Can you use your magic talking spell, like you did on the Tollmaster?”

“It doesn’t have ears!”

“I didn’t  _ know _ it needs ears for it to work!”

“How did you  _ think _ it worked?”

“I don’t know! How do we fix it?” 

Caleb looked away from Jester’s face just long enough to see a red, smokey tendril poised over her chest, and his face went white. “We  _ run!” _

He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the way just in time for the strange entity to miss her, and pulled her through the streets. She got the picture, and they raced through the winding roads of Trostenwald, swerving to avoid the growing mass of vile red smog.

They eventually swerved into a small back alley and hid behind a dumpster. Caleb peeked out with one eye, watching the smoke grope around the alley like a curious, destructive child. It swirled and batted, and even bounced off the dumpster itself, audibly knocking around the trash inside. Apparently convinced they had escaped, the strange tendril retracted, and Caleb let out a long, slow breath. “Jester? Are you okay?”

“I...I think so.” She pulled on the sleeves of her hoodie. “Are you?”

“Right as rain. We should probably avoid the mob.”

“What were we running from?”

“...The riot. The essence of it, at least.”

“The magic essence?”

“Ja. It’s quite powerful stuff.”

“When will it stop?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen this spell before. But whoever did this needs to be stopped.”

“So we’re gonna be detectives? Wow.” She smiled broadly. “Does that mean I can wear one of those detective hats?”

“You mean a deerstalker cap?”

“Wow, that’s a great name. I think?”

“If you can buy one in the shops, I don’t see why not.”

“Yessssss.” She clenched her fist with delight. “So how long do we hide here?”

“Until the authorities show up, I’d assume. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yep.”

He nodded, and reached into his pocket for - “Ah,  _ Mist.” _

“Something wrong?

“My, ah. I have a...something that helps when I am stressed. It must’ve fallen out in the scuffle.”

“Do you want me to go look for it?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s safer back here.” Caleb knotted his fingers together and resisted the urge to worry at his thumbnail with his teeth. “I will be fine.”

She looked him over, a worried wrinkle in her brow, then shrugged. “If you say so, Caleb.”

“Thank you, Jester.” He pulled his knees into his chest and looped his arms over his legs, tightening into a ball. He counted the seconds in his head, as the mob’s feverous pitch rose further, and the sun dipped low in the horizon, painting the sky in vivid, leaking lines of red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between chapters, folks - stuff came up IRL
> 
> German Translations:  
> ‘Mist’ - ‘Crap’


End file.
